


Bound

by AifasInTheSky



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: (I think?), Bondage, Light Bondage, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 09:08:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24348526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AifasInTheSky/pseuds/AifasInTheSky
Summary: Medic loves seeing Heavy undone.
Relationships: Heavy/Medic (Team Fortress 2)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 95





	Bound

“Heavy, Heavy, Heavy,” Medic tuts, pacing around the operating table. “What did I tell you about being patient?”

“Doktor is hypocrite,” Heavy gasps, fighting against his restraints. “Is worse than child—never could wait.”

Medic smirks. It is true, is it not? He is, all in all, a selfish man: if he has it his way—and he usually does—he simply does as he wishes, quick and straight to the point, no preambles and with no heed for other people’s words, needs or desires. It irks him, not being able to do what he wants when he wants to.

However, in certain areas he can recognize the virtues of waiting. Not only that, but he takes relish in the results.

For instance, right now: Heavy is short of breath, resting his cheek against the cool metal. He is shirtless, his trousers unbuckled and his shoes lying on the floor. His hands are tied under the table, connected to his joined feet by a thick string of rope—any movement he might make with his hands will pull at his ankles, and vice versa. A very clever piece of work, if he is allowed to say.

He, on the other hand, has been administering calculated, measured touches all over him—tweaking his nipples, sliding his hand across his chest, ghosting it over his pelvis, teasing his pubic hairs on end, and then going back up. Heavy is a tough man: he has resisted for a long while with only the slightest of twitches, but everyone has a breaking point, and Heavy looks like he is very close to it.

Oh, how delectable he looks, his Heavy—sweat glistening on his forehead, eyes narrowed, lips open, gasping for air. Thoracic cavity expanding and contracting rapidly with each breath, knees pulling open and close in quick, small motions limited by the bounds’ resistance. Erection standing proud in attention, straining against the fabric of his pants and falling out of the zip of his trousers. He is a sight for sore eyes, so visibly undone and still so firm and composed, refusing to give up and lose himself, lose before him.

This is his Heavy. Proud, brave, unwavering, and so undeniably _his_ Medic’s chest sometimes aches at the evidence there is of it.

“Doktor is taking his time today,” Heavy rasps, dilated pupils fixed on him. Not once his eyes have left him. He licks his lips.

“Don’t I always?” He never rushes his time with Heavy, unless he is really desperate—there _have_ been times when it was all they could do to put their hands on each other. But as much as he loves their most desperate encounters, he absolutely _adores_ the chances to explore, to taste, to experiment.

Like this one.

“You like this.” It is a statement. Heavy leaves no room for doubt. He is sure. Oh, how well he knows him.

The same goes for him.

“You do too, Liebling.”

He punctuates his sentence with a brush of his nails across the inside of his thighs.

Heavy’s cock jolts.

“You are smirking. Like-” Heavy does an intake of breath as the nails trace his pelvis. “Like cat who got bird.”

“Oh, but you _are_.” He cannot help himself. He is so giddy he could burst. His pants brush against his strained bulge. “You are the most wonderful, _delectable_ prey I have ever caught.”

His hands itch to reach his crotch, to rub his trousers against his own erection—but not yet; he has a job to do. He makes them travel the expanse of Heavy’s stomach, tickling his navel, wandering upwards back again towards his chest. There he hesitates. Should he apply his mouth to his right nipple? Or the left one?

He opts for a third option: neither.

He plants one hand on each peak and descends on the left side of Heavy’s neck, licking a trail up to his ear. He feels Heavy shudder under him; he hears his violent intake of air as he plays with his lobe with his lips and tongue. Ah, what a delicious response! Nevertheless, it is too predictable. He craves for more. He wants to learn even more about this man and, in the process, make him come undone, fall apart under his ministrations.

He rubs his right nipple in tandem with his licking, and Heavy grunts. Huh. Not really a satisfactory answer. It might be a matter of… He then starts caressing his left one, scratching the tip with his fingernail, and—

“Ah!”

Bingo! He grins. It was a simple matter of stimulation. He makes a mental reminder to take his time with the side he wants the most response from.

“Do you need something, mein freund?”

Heavy shakes his head, trying to level his breathing. Ah, stubborn, strong Heavy. However, it is just those traits that make this all the more challenging, the more interesting.

His own cock twitches. He looks forward to absolutely disarming this man.

Medic’s patience has been dwindling for a while, though. And he knows that Heavy knows it, by the smirk that sporadically crosses his face. He growls, and twists his nipple in warning. Heavy’s pained—pleasured—yelp is music to his ears. He decides, anyways, to broaden his field of study. He starts kissing downwards, inch by inch, across his thorax and abdomen and all the way to his covered pubes. Oh, here it is, he thinks. The star of the show.

He breathes over his erection, taking delight in the way Heavy’s back arches over the gurney, hips stuttering with want. He tries to propel himself with his legs, which only results in his arms being pulled downwards in what looks like a painful, though not harmful, position. He can feel frustration and pleasure radiating off Heavy in the warmth of his skin and the tremors of his body.

“Doktor,” he grunts, a warning tone underlying the pure want in his voice.

He pulls the hem of his trousers down, revealing Heavy’s stained underwear. In spite of his own restlessness, he’s not ready to give up on his fun yet. He starts ghosting his hand over the inside of his thighs, taunting the ends of his pubic hair as he experimentally probes the tip of his covered cock with his tongue. Heavy’s breaths come even more strained, tiny, impossible sounds escaping his mouth. He’s so, so close…

He cannot help himself. With his other hand, he starts palming himself inside his underwear as he mouths Heavy’s bulge. Heavy all but shouts, tensing all over, and Medic groans around him, frantically working at himself as he keeps sucking and sucking, and stroking Heavy’s strong legs. Heavy pulls, and pulls, in infinite directions, to no avail, as he tries to free himself in order to… He does not know, but the promise of it sounds so inviting…

With a final shout, Heavy finally reaches his climax. Medic keeps working at his erection even as it dwindles and finally recedes. He reaches forward, grabbing Heavy’s hips and pulling at him to make him come closer to the edge of the gurney. Heavy dizzily complies, and Medic can’t hold it anymore, letting his pants and trousers loose and rutting against this impossible man.

“Gott,” he says, for the only God that matters to him is right in front of him, enclosing him between his legs, not letting him go.

And finally, with an ecstatic yell, he finishes too.

He slumps forward over Heavy, exhausted. Heavy huffs a worn out, yet exhilarated laugh.

“Doktor,” he breathes out. “Release me.”

He shivers, and makes a tired grab for the nearest sharp thing he can find—namely, his saw. He reaches down and cuts the rope near the central knot, tearing apart its delicate craftsmanship. He’s too tired to care at the moment, though. And he wants; he _wants_.

Heavy rises and envelopes him in his arms, kissing him deeply, desperately. He answers in tandem—he is tempted to laugh at the intensity of it all, were it not for the fact that he is feeling equally needy.

“Doktor.” He gasps.

“I am here, Heavy, I am here,” he reassures him.

“I know,” Heavy says. “You’re everywhere. Is…” Heavy shivers. “Good feeling.” His grip tightens. “I don’t want to let you go.”

Medic’s heart aches in response.

“Neither do I, mein Liebling.” He holds on tighter. “Neither do I.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first PWP fic and will most probably be the last. I wrote the first part of this like four, five years ago and just now I'm able to finish it. I don't know if I'll write more stuff like this--I mean, contextless.
> 
> Thanks for reading; I hope you enjoyed it ♥


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